


Call Me Maybe?

by on_tuesdays_we_wear_plaid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Castiel Works at Gas-N-Sip, Customer Dean Winchester, Drabble, Gas-N-Sip, M/M, Mini-Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6779734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/on_tuesdays_we_wear_plaid/pseuds/on_tuesdays_we_wear_plaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean looks for 'beef jerky.' He's pretty sure the guy behind the counter can help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me Maybe?

_Ding!_ The chime of the doorbell echoes through the Gas-n-Sip as Dean saunters in, looking for the beef jerky. He spots the impossibly hot guy behind the counter, and decides that yeah, he’ll just ask  _him._ Couldn’t hurt, right?

Walking up to the counter with the flirtiest grin he can come up with plastered onto his face, he coughs to get his attention. The man looks up, and _goddamn_ are his eyes blue. It throws Dean off for a second.

“Excuse me,” the man says, all smiles. “Can I help you with something?”

Dean nods, remembering his purpose here. “Yeah, hi. You, uh, got any beef jerky?” he asks, trying to keep his voice nonchalant.

It apparently works. Either that or the man is just oblivious. Either way, the man smiles at him again. “Of course. Hold on a second.” He turns around and searches the shelves behind the counter for the requested item. Dean takes this opportunity to check out his butt. _Nice,_ he thinks to himself.

The man turns around again and presents the beef jerky package to Dean. “Here you go, sir. Would you like me to ring it up for you?” he asks.

Dean nods, and prepares himself. He licks his lips and goes for it.

“Hey, are you wearing space pants? Because your ass is out of this world.” He flashes his flirtiest grin for effect.

Without missing a beat, the man looks up at him and says, “Actually, they’re softball pants, because my ass is out of your league.”

Dean stares at him, dumbstruck, as the man behind the counter pulls out Dean’s receipt and writes something down on the back before slapping it into Dean’s hand, along with the bag containing the beef jerky. “Have a nice day,” he says, and goes to help another customer.

It takes Dean but a few seconds to process what just happened, and then he is out of there. _God, he’s never been more embarrassed in his entire life._ He looks down at the bag in his hand and suddenly remembers that the dude had written something on the back of the receipt. Quickly, Dean makes his way to his impala, unlocks the doors, and scoots in, tossing the bag aside and uncrumpling the receipt. He stares at the black ink penned on the back, and then he smiles.

_Castiel Novak_

_341-570-2389_

_call me :)_

Oh, he definitely will.


End file.
